


Roles

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-19
Updated: 2002-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Secrets"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roles

**Author's Note:**

> The Wife. 

## Roles

by EscapeToCity

[]()

* * *

HWMFM: Roles  
Sequel to "Secrets" 

Author: EscapeToCity 

Rating: R 

Warning: Dark subject matter, _Slash_ inferred. Character death referenced. 

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either. 

*AU/Futurefic* 

Best regards, 

-J.B.  
@ Waveland  
10/18/02 

Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com 

* * *

**ROLES**

"I hate him." 

"Who?" 

"Him. You know who." 

"No, Patricia, I don't know anyone named 'Him.' Please elaborate, if you wish." 

"Him." 

"We're stuck here, Patricia. I need you to open up." 

"I can't." 

"Are you sleeping these days?" 

"Yes." 

"Eight hours a night?" 

"Two." 

"That's not enough. You know that. We've gone over this before." 

"I know you only want to help me...but--" 

"But what?" 

"Maybe there is no 'helping' the helpless. The abandoned." 

"You feel abandoned? By what? By whom?" 

"Lex, of course." 

"How do you mean?" 

"He's gone. I have nothing left but money. I find myself wondering if I ever really had him in the first place, Doctor." 

"Elaborate." 

"Him. That. The past. That place. I'm wondering if he ever really left the life he had there. I'm wondering if I was filler, a pause between choices, a bore...a temporary solution. I'm wondering if he....if he....loved...me." 

"You told be in prior sessions he cared for you very much. You told me he trusted you." 

"Should he have? I wonder." 

"Patricia...remember...you can tell me anything. Anything at all. These meetings are completely confidential." 

"Of course." 

"So is there anything you need to say?" 

"I loved him." 

"Alright...we've established that. But there is obviously something troubling you-- someone troubling you...this 'Him.' Would you like to tell me who he is and why he makes you so unsettled?" 

"Yes....he's...umm...he's...a boy." 

"A child?" 

"Not really. He's a picture, he's a time. He's loss...salvation. Not mine, of course. Lex's. Damn him...he's...he's....a bastard." 

"A bastard? Why refer to him in such a manner?" 

"Because Lex loved him. More than I." 

"Do you believe Lex was having a physical affair with this individual?" 

"It wasn't an affair, Doctor. It was a life." 

"Was this going on at the time of your husband's death?" 

"No." 

"When did it occur?" 

"Before I married Lex." 

(But not before I met him...) 

"Patricia-- listen....if you are feeling threatened by a previous relationship that your husband had prior to your marriage, don't. Don't. You have stated repeatedly that Lex loved you and only you during your marriage. The past obviously didn't impact that." 

"Oh, but it did, Doctor. The past impacts everything we are." 

"How so?" 

"Lex never left Smallville." 

"Smallville?" 

"His father had installed him out there for a time, years and years ago. For a time, he ran the Luthor plant down there, ended up buying up half the town." 

"Continue..." 

"At some point after his arrival there, he began some sort of relationship with a local...a boy...a teenager...." 

"Are you upset that Lex was having relations with an underage boy?" 

"No...of course not. I know the horrors of a cold and empty bed. I've never judged that about anyone. Who has the right to say what is and what isn't?" 

"Society, perhaps? The law?" 

"I am society, Doctor. Believe me, we don't give a damn, so long as we don't get caught. And laws are for the poor or foolish. A well-placed envelope always buys the verdict." 

"I see." 

"Anyway...Lex and 'Him'...they...they were very close. Then the boy left and Lex returned here. And that was that." 

"So why does it seem to hurt you so to think about it?" 

"Because after I lost the baby, I found a box. A box of photos and letters...a fucking box full of a life I wasn't a part of. Lex's life. Lex's life with 'him.'" 

"But that life was over, Patricia. You said so yourself." 

"It never ended. Lex carried part of that boy with him everyday of his life. I have goddamned nightmares...our wedding...it's beautiful and I am about to say 'I do.'...and suddenly Lex is gone...and I look outside and there he is, kissing that farm hand. That damned piece of white trash. Kissing him and telling me he's so sorry he never loved me but thanks for the good time." 

"You're very upset, Patricia. Maybe we should end this session." 

"No one ever loved me. Good Times Beaumont. Patty the Prowler." 

"Calm down. Please. Calm down. Stop crying." 

"I'm sorry. It's just that when you figure out...well, when you figure out that you wasted your life loving men who could never love you back...well...it just makes you angry. Bitter, perhaps?" 

"Perhaps." 

"I need to talk some more." 

(Got ten years?) 

"That's fine. We have the time. Just calm down. Remember that you aren't alone. You have friends, a company, charities." 

"Bull. Junk. More junk. As for friends...they keep looking at me as if I have done something wrong. Casting suspicious glances my way all about town. I'm thinking of leaving Metropolis." 

"That's the first time I heard you mention that. Why would you leave?" 

"This was his town. I'll never be what the people here want. He was their King. I was just the lipstick and hair." 

(I want to go home. To Gotham. To my hallway. Sawyer and Turpin have nothing to hold over me. I'm free. To go home and swallow glass.) 

"I think you're underestimating yourself." 

"No...I'm not. Some people in this life know exactly what they are, Doctor, and I am one of them. I'm a heiress. We don't get sympathy. We get envy. We get spite. No one loves us. My role in life is to spend money and sleep alone." 

"Again...I think you're being far too negative. Think about all the great things you have done and will continue to do." 

"I don't care about the future, Doctor." 

"Reconsider that notion, Patricia." 

"When I was pregnant...before the blood and the sharp jabs...and that...that...loss...I thought a baby would fill me up. Take away this absence of faith in happiness. But then he was gone and I was back where I started." 

(Back in that hallway....my head spinning...help me...) 

"You said in the past that Lex was very attentive in those days. Didn't you feel close to him then?" 

"Sometimes. Some days. But I always caught him looking out the window...out there...past the towers and the park...west...towards...you know." 

"No...I don't know. Elaborate." 

"He was looking for him, Doctor. For Clark Kent." 

"Ahh...a name." 

"Clark. Yes. Lex married me but he was looking for him. With every heartbeat, Lex worshipped him." 

"How can you be sure?" 

"I told you I found the box. Hundreds of pages of longing packed away, hidden from my sight. Eighty-four pages devoted solely to the color of Clark's eyes. Ten pages of Clark's lips. Twenty of his strong hands. I remember crying and hating and...and--" 

(His beard...so scratchy....you...you there...help me...) 

"Take another tissue." 

"--thanks. Yes...it was traumatic. To learn that your husband had not only loved someone more than you but then to find that he virtually supported Clark's family. Awarding them food service contracts on SkyLex. Trifling, I know. But relevant." 

"How so?" 

"He was taking care of his family. Lex, that is. He saw the Kents as his real family. Not me. Not the baby. Not Metropolis. Lex's heart and intentions never left Lowell County." 

"Again, Patricia, how can you know this for certain? Lex married you. He lived with you. He made a life with you. A very public life. You say he loved you. Why the need to even consider this 'other life'? Isn't it all moot now? Perhaps you need to simply grieve. Maybe that's what all this is...you're lashing out due to the grief. It's perfectly understandable and that's why I am here. To be your friend. To advise. To listen. To help." 

"Of course. You're right. It's all moot now...there's nothing to regret." 

Patricia Beaumont Luthor looked up at the clock and saw it was time to leave. 

"I have a facial scheduled at Tesmacher's. Same time next week? 

"Of course. See you then." 

"Shut up, bitch!" 

What a fool.   
She thinks I am grieving. Ha. The grieving was over at the funeral. Seeing that alabaster mannequin laid out, his lips curling at the edges. Smirking. At me. For me. 

"Father...stop! She's hurt!" 

Dear, sweet, feline Selina holding my hand and cooing like I was some kind of pathetic little girl. Good, old, stoic Bruce staring at me, trying to measure my sanity. 

He should stop to ponder his own. 

"Please....stop him....please." 

I remember the first time I met Lex. Sixteen. My party. Daddy threw the most extravagant parties. Lex and Lionel arriving by coach. How pretentious, thought Mother. 

"You're magnificent, Patricia. Simply exquisite. Oh...I'd like you to meet my son..." 

Daddy handing me that breathtaking necklace. Bruce brooding by the stairs. The fire crackling, smelling like pine and hope. The chandelier glistening and Lex's cute little laugh. 

"Father. I don't think she's well." 

Bruce in the shadows scoping out the crowd, looking like death itself. The food. Delicious. Bacon wrapped trout and caviar....and wine and I know I shouldn't be drinking so much. But Mother and Daddy look so happy and I wish Bruce would ask me to dance. He's so tall. 

"Care for a dance?" 

Dancing under the stars, my hand in Lex's. Snap. It was legitimately romantic and dazzling.... 

"Care for a dance?" 

Later that night...I can't find Bruce...where am I? Daddy's study. Stuffed animals. My room? Blood? The rank scent of Havana and salt and expensive spirits, of turns and more dancing....of beards and baldness. Of initiation. I remember calling out... 

"H-H-elp me....anyone." 

...no one knew. The scent. The laughter. Bald and crying. The sins of the father. No one will know. Pop. Marble...and why is it so cold? My necklace broken. Another kind draped across my chest....Mother....Daddy...Bruce carrying me up the stairs....his tear-stained face, asking me over and over-- who? 

"I'll kill whoever did this, Patty." 

I couldn't speak. Damn...I couldn't speak. Mother...he face so hard....she's angry...I've made a mistake... Daddy....I'm sorry...I'm not a bad girl... 

"Give her a sedative. She's delusional." 

I couldn't ever say it that night. Or since. Just a little incident. 

"Father--"  
"Shut up, you weakling! If you don't want a piece of her, I'll keep it all for myself!" 

No one will remember. 

"Lex...help me..." 

Mother taught me well. 

"Your father has a merger coming up soon with Luthor Industries. Do you understand?" 

"Of course." 

"You were drunk. Nothing happened." 

Stop. 

I remember other things as well. Kisses on silk sheets. Real kisses. Lex holding me, protecting me...from myself, from the past. I remember every second of time with him. After ridding our lives of Lionel, I believed everything would work out. 

I wanted forever with Lex.  
(You married me out of guilt. Bastard.) It wasn't his fault, was it?   
(You always wanted Clark. Not me.)  
I wanted him to hold me the way he had....the way he had...just for a moment...before Lionel had burst into the hall... 

"Pat...if you ever need to talk about that night....that night in Gotham..." "No...Lex...I don't need to talk about it. Ever. I don't really remember much anyway. The past is the past." 

Help me... 

I love you. 

To realize he'd rather have been with Clark Kent.....well....let's just say it changed things. 

"She's a hot little number, son...one fine piece." 

Role reversal. 

The day I found the pictures. The needs. The promises. The secrets. The day my heart broke. The day I was sixteen again....the day I died. 

"Damnit, Jeffries....you missed Tesmacher's." 

"Sorry, Madam." 

Lousy driver. Crack shot, though. 

(I'm sorry it had to hurt.) 

I do have other appointments. Drop off that tape to the police...in the mail. A stop at Dean  & Deluca...a trip by Cartier....that little something to pick up at Cadmus.... 

Access has its privileges. 

Lex... 

(You could have stopped him from hurting me.) 

You really did pour _all_ your thoughts into your letters, my love. My husband. 

Everything I buy today will be green, in honor of your special someone. 

Doctor--  
I've had a breakthrough.  
Thank you so much. 

Clark Kent.  
Maybe you can be with my husband forever. 

(Now I will hurt Him.) 

In hell. 

END of "Roles" 

This will continue... 


End file.
